Harry Evans, Son of Snape
by IndigoStarshine
Summary: What if Severus Snape was actually Harry's father? How would that impact Harry and the rest of the Wizarding World? How would that affect him personally? A typical HP/SS son story with a bit of a twist. Rewrite of Harry James Evans: The Boy Who Lived.
1. Atonement and an Odd Boy

_A/N: I just want to rewrite my story Harry James Evans: The Boy Who Lived._

* * *

_December 1980_

James Potter frantically ran into his study room, he didn't have much time. He could see Death Eaters outside his house, a whole gang walking down the street, trudging through the heavy snow. They were coming for him. This would be the end of him. He had been betrayed but by whom he did not know.

He fumbled around for a spare piece of parchment and an inked quill. His owl surprised by his current behaviour. He was too preoccupied to even realise that he was crying in sorrow. This was the end of the story for him, after death he was sure nothing came after. He had always wanted to be a hero and this was what he would get, a hero's end and all its glory.

Even when he was fully sent up to write what he needed to, he had trouble doing so. As much as he wanted to write, the words were difficult to place on the page. He hand refused to stop shaking to allow words to form on the page.

He had to remind himself why he was doing this:

He didn't want his Death Eater distant cousins to inherit everything he owned, especially the invisibility cloak. He wanted to spite them in last vengeance.

It would be the last kind thing he would ever do. The money would go to two people who really needed it.

It was his atonement for the wrongs he had committed.

Lily Evans had given birth to a son and she had made him the godfather. The girl whom he had loved for over nine years of his life and later rejected him had a son to a Death Eater. It wasn't what she wanted for herself. As a muggle born she had trouble finding employment so she had to resort to lesser means to support herself once her parents had died and her hardhearted sister refused to help her. She was also willing to do certain things to gain information for the Order and by extension, to save the wizarding world. Lily was the bravest and kindest woman he had ever known. He owed it to her, and to her son.

He remembered the night when Lily had come to him crying. He opened the door expecting Sirius, Peter or Remus but was surprised when he saw Lily. She desperately needed help. She was living in poverty, pregnant and she didn't know what to do. He accepted her with open arms.

She had named her new son Harry James Evans. The baby was named 'Harry' after his deceased grandfather and 'James' after his godfather. Everyone thought that the baby was his. James had gone along with this lie. He had never slept with her and even without Lily confessing, he knew who the father really was. The boy sadly took after his father, hopefully only physically.

James was always a prankster and often bullied other students while at Hogwarts. He couldn't help but feel regret over a lot of his actions and when he had left Hogwarts; he desperately tried to make amends. One thing that got to James was that it was perhaps his actions that added to the reasons why the boy's father became a Death Eater in the first place. The boy wouldn't have a mother who had to whore herself to sustain the both of them. He hoped his godson would grow up to be happy and live in a world where there was no Voldemort or Death Eaters and no intolerance. This was how he would make amends to the man he had so scorned and tormented.

On the piece of paper he had forced himself to write:

'_I, James Charlus Potter, leave everything I own to Lily Elizabeth Evans and Harry James Evans. He is our son. Goodbye. James Potter.'_

Nobody would deny that Harry was his son now. He addressed the letter to Dumbledore, tied the letter to the leg of his owl and opened the window wide. Looking out the window, he noticed that his muggle neighbours had put up festive decorations. The muggles of Godrick's Hollow were good willed and accepting, just what Lily and her son needed in a world of intolerance. He was reminded that this would be the boy's first Christmas and smiled, he could remember all the gifts his parents spoilt him with every Christmas. The boy deserved a good childhood.

The Death Eaters were banging at his front door now. He watched as his owl had flown out of sight before drawing out his wand and going to face the Death Eaters. There were too many of them to fight and he knew he would die, but he wasn't going to give up so easily.

* * *

…_And so, James Potter died leaving Lily and her son a considerable fortune. The letter had reached Dumbledore before the Dark Mark had appeared above his dwelling. Wizarding society had accepted that James was Harry's father although he still had the ghastly stigma of being born illegitimate._

_Life for Lily and her son had become slightly happier than it had been for a long time, until disaster happened. Voldemort had interpreted Harry as a part of the prophecy and set out to destroy him. Severus Snape tried to plea with the Dark Lord not to kill Lily as he still deeply loved her, although he believed that Harry was the son of Potter. The result was Lily sacrificing herself for her son to live, Voldemort being temporarily vanquished and Snape becoming a permanent agent for Dumbledore._

_Harry Evans became the famous 'the boy who lived' and celebrated as a hero for a reason he could not even remember. Magic society unknowingly accepted the lowly illegitimate son of a muggle born prostitute and a former Death Eater as their saviour._

* * *

Even at a young age, Harry Evans was always an odd boy.

He had sullen black hair recklessly cut by his aunt with the guidance of a cooking bowl over his head. He was pale enough for people to regularly inquire whether he was ill. He had facial features overly serious for a boy. To make it worse, the baggy, worn hand-me-down clothes that came from his large cousin Dudley did nothing to help give him an air of normality. However, it was his striking almond-shaped green eyes and thunderbolt scar on his forehead that attracted the most attention. When people asked him how he had acquired such an unusual mark, he could only shrug.

Harry had lived with his aunt and uncle for most of his life and could not see any way around it. Living with the Dursleys was forbidding. His Uncle Vernon was a large man who cared nothing but his business success, his car and how his family compared with the neighbours. Aunt Petunia was blonde and horse looking with a long neck. There was something about Harry that made her face occasionally grimace in disgust, which was quite cruel and harsh for someone to do to their sister's child. Then there was his cousin Dudley Dursley whom Harry often compared to a fat pig in a blond wig, whom his both his Aunt and Uncle spoilt to no end.

If you randomly walked into their home on 4 Privet Drive, you couldn't tell that another boy lived there if you didn't know otherwise. There were no pictures of him on the walls. There was no bedroom for him as he slept under the stairs. There was no love or time for him.

A lot of the time Harry felt angry about how he was treated. He often lashed out in ways that the Dursleys could not explain or pick up. He often stole Dudley's things and either sold or hid them. Yet, there was a certain calmness in him that triumphed the anger. Like an invisible beacon of light that gave him love no matter what.

When he was little, he had hoped that he had other family who would whisk him away from them but with age he eventually realised that nobody was coming for him. The Dursleys were the only family he had. For some reason he had always hoped that it was his real father before realising that the man not only had nothing to do with his life, but probably didn't know he even existed. Maybe his real father was a nice man, maybe he was a scumbag – Harry supposed he would never know.

Whenever he got into arguments with Dudley, Dudley's resolution to everything was the same:

"Dudley, I'm staying back at school late because I have to tutor little Louise Maple. I can't do your homework for you tonight."

"Dad will get really angry at you if you don't!"

"I don't care, he's always angry at me anyway. Besides, he'll be too preoccupied with his company dinner. So is your Mum, so fuck off."

"Well, your Mum was a drug addicted prostitute."

This would strike a sad chord within Harry, maybe because his mother really was a prostitute and had died from a drug overdose. The Dursleys would sometimes use it against him. He hated them as much as they hated him and had already decided to run away when he was old enough. Harry knew he was clever enough to make it in the world by himself, but life for him always didn't seem fair. For instance, why didn't they just put him up for adoption? Harry was sure there were plenty of families that would love a son, even one like him.

Harry liked school better than home. For a boy with such an unnatural and neglected appearance, he was reasonably well liked. Well, more liked than his bully of a cousin Dudley. Harry was the kind of boy who spent all recess in the library reading books, not just because it was refuge from bullies like Dudley and his gang (who he doubted would ever voluntarily enter a library), but because he genuinely liked reading. He just liked books. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hated going to parent teacher meetings because all they would hear as 'Harry is a very bright boy who gets along with most other children' and 'Dudley is dangerously overweight and underperforming'.

He wouldn't have to put up with Dudley at school for much longer anyway; Dudley would be attending Smeltings, the academy Vernon attended while Harry would be attending Stonewall High. Even though Stonewall was sure to be a shitty school and filled with losers and deadbeats, Harry was determined to succeed. Over his school years, he had developed several methods of dealing with bullies. There would have to be people

Harry had only ever had a few good friends, both of closer friends had left the school by the time he was ten. His best friend Emmy was a year older and her family had moved to London so she could attend an academically selective secondary school. His other best friend, Adam Freyson and his family moved back to Iceland a year ago. Harry remembered that he couldn't speak much English when he first arrived and Harry had helped him escape bullies. To Harry's anger and resentment, the Dursleys wouldn't let him have them as pen pals. It had been a very lonely school year.

He still got along with most of the over students though, even if they thought he was highly abnormal and some made an effort to avoid him. Harry didn't complain though, he _was_ abnormal. Strange things would happen when he was upset, frightened, mad or sometimes just bored. He remembered he made the toy train that Dudley had received from Aunt Marge for his seventh birthday vanish into thin air; he didn't intend to do something so mean but when the woman who he was forced to call 'aunt' gave a packet of dog biscuits he just lost it. Dudley screamed and cried the whole afternoon as Harry had successfully ruined his party. When Aunt Petunia had once shaved off all his hair, he found that it had grown back to the way it was overnight. Earlier that year, he had failed to explain to the principal why he had seemingly teleported himself on the school roof once when he was being chased by Dudley and his gang. Dudley's gang and other groups of bullies permanently left him alone after that. He was then after known as 'that freak Harry'.

In fact Harry's favourite memory had been caused by his strange abilities. Two years ago, he and Emmy were riding on her bicycle when a gang of high school students had turned up and threatened them. Harry had tried his hardest to out-peddle them but he found that it was extra difficult with Emmy on the back, holding on to him with her life. Suddenly, Harry found himself rising higher and higher. It was fantastic. Emmy had started screaming at first but after being up high for a couple of minutes she had started to enjoy the view. She didn't seem scared of him.

All this changed one day when he would receive a letter in the mail…

"Harry, get the mail!"

Harry could hear Uncle Vernon's voice boom from the kitchen into his cupboard under the stairs. Harry merely rolled over in his bed.

"No, make Dudley get it!"

"Dudley, can you get the mail please?"

"Make Harry get it!"

"Dudley, poke him with your Smelting Stick."

Harry grudgingly got out of bed, making an effort to move as slowly as possible in the hope that Uncle Vernon would get off his huge bum and get the mail himself.

"Hurry up, boy! Don't get all resentful with me again!"

Harry opened to cupboard door and took slow, deliberate steps towards the door to get the mail. He knew Uncle Vernon was annoyed without even looking back. It was when Uncle Vernon gave a grunt or coughed in a deliberate way to disguise that he was annoyed. He was coughing like a small dog would bark.

It was a pretty typical morning. Uncle Vernon drank his tea before Aunt Petunia made him breakfast. Uncle Vernon and Dudley ate almost everything. The Dursleys only gave Harry enough food so that the child protection agency wouldn't get suspicious. They had given up trying to force Harry to cook for them. He always deliberately burnt it or found a way to make it taste disgusting.

Harry looked through the mail with the usual apathy; a bill for Uncle Vernon, a bank statement for Uncle Vernon, another bill for Uncle Vernon, a possible lawsuit for Uncle Vernon, a fashion magazine subscription for Aunt Petunia. Then he came across an interesting envelope. The paper was old and brownish and it had a string around it. It had no stamp, only an insignia of a shield with a 'H' in the centre on the back. The best thing about this letter was that it was addressed to him, in fancy writing: _Harry James Evans, the cupboard underneath the stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey._

Harry was amazed and a little shocked.

This was the first letter he had ever received in his short life. He quickly stuffed it in his back pocket. He would open it in his bedroom away from the Dursleys, where they wouldn't see it.

"What the devil is it, boy?"

"Nothing much," Harry said with hands in his pocket. To Uncle Vernon, Harry was always acting in a way that was deceitful.

Aunt Petunia finished making breakfast and totted awkwardly over to Uncle Vernon in her high heels to pick up the letter. Aunt Petunia was fully dolled up; wearing a blue and white polka dot dress, her favourite purple high heels and her best, most expensive make up. If it were any other woman Harry would have said that she looked beautiful but this was his horse faced aunt - she just looked silly wearing such fancy clothes. Today she was going to have brunch with some of her friends at their usual favourite fancy restaurant, if you could really call the gossipy group of ladies she spent time with as genuine friends.

She placed large plates of bacon, egg and toast in front of Vernon and Dudley who proceeded to wolf it down. Harry thought they looked like pigs at a trough. For Harry there was a burnt slice of toast, some egg and bacon.

"You know I don't like bacon," said Harry, scrapping it to the side, "I've only been saying that for the last eight years or so."

Aunt Petunia gave him the evil eyes, "Well, don't eat it you ungrateful brat! If the child services come we can say that you refused to eat what we provide."

Harry frowned. They obviously didn't care enough about him to remember that he didn't like bacon, tuna or his Aunt's wilted salads and hadn't done so for as long he had been here. She also made him tuna sandwiches on purpose as well. He didn't know what kind of thrill she got out of doing so.

Dudley snorted and forked up the bacon on Harry's plate, "How could you not like bacon, freak? The fuck is wrong with you."

"Duddy-pumpkin, watch your language." Aunt Petunia stated in her wimpy voice. She was never upset at anything he did.

"I don't like eating pigs because they remind me of you."

In an instant, Uncle Vernon went red in the face, like a big beetroot. It always amused Harry. Dudley started to whimper - despite his bullying nature, he cried easily. Aunt Petunia shrieked. Annoying the Dursleys was like watching a bag of marshmallows explode in the microwave - it amused him immensely when it shouldn't have. Harry snatched the toast and ran straight back into the cupboard. It took great skill and practice to escape their wrath – both of which Harry had already mastered. He put on the cupboard light and opened the letter when he thought it was safe.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry smiled in amusement. A wizarding school? Must be some sort of joke. Still, it sounded cool and it might be fun. Maybe he might even have his own TV show, like Zonko. Anything was better than the Dursleys and Stonewall High. There was another letter, one that listed all the stationary and book. But, how the heck would he respond by owl and how would he buy all those books? Did they even exist?


	2. A Birthday Wish

_December 1979_

It was late at night and Severus could just see the silhouette of Lily's body as she stood to look out of the window. Her body was so beautiful, despite being tarnished by the bodies of others, mainly men. As she gazed out of his bedroom window at his place at Spinner's End, he knew her well enough to know what kind of thoughts were going through her mind. He didn't need occlumency to know of her thoughts of self-loathing.

"Sev, do you know what time it is?"

"It's twelve thirty, dear. Come back to bed."

"I'm not your _dear_, Sev - Just a whore who satisfies your needs. That's how all my Death Eater clients see me."

"You have other Death Eater clients?"

"Oh yes, I seem to be very popular with them - the hypocrites. They aren't as nice to me as you are though. I've had Bellatrix Lestrange who I can say is a very strange person. Nott is an asshole. So are Crabbe, Goyle and the Carrows. And guess what - Malfoy has a small ding-a-ling."

Lily began giggling like a child, it was brief but cheeky – a reminder of her former spunky personality. It was so long since the last time he had seen her laugh or show any kind of happiness at all.

There were so many things that he wanted to tell her and do for her that were made impossible by being a Death Eater. He wanted to tell her that she was more than just a pretty face and that she was the most kind and talented woman he had ever known. He wanted to tell her that he loved her soul more than her body. He wanted to marry her and support her. He wanted her to be happy again. Severus would do anything for that.

She turned her head to glare at him, the moonlight made her expression more haunting, "Remember when we were kids? Remember that park down the road where we use to play."

Her question took him by surprise and he took a while before answering. It seemed like it was such a long time ago, almost a different world.

"Of course."

"We had no responsibilities, no war, no fighting. We were the best of friends. It was wonderful."

"I miss those days. I wish I could go back."

She started to faintly smile, something that he had never seen an adult Lily do, "I wish I was a child again and we could be friends. Even though you have grown into a Death Eater you are still so kind to me. It proves that there is still some good in you, deep down where nobody else can see. I wish you were brave enough not to have followed the crowd."

"We can still be friends," he got himself out of bed and went over to her, not to touch her but to just stand beside her, to see what she was seeing, "I don't just want you for sex. We can still just talk as we use to."

She shook her head, "No. Whatever childhood friendship we had is over, Severus. Accept that. I am nothing more than a whore. I hate what I do. I'm only twenty and I've slept with more people than I can count. That's why I don't want to do it anymore. After tonight I will not be a prostitute anymore. I want to be a good mother."

Severus felt a brick plummet through his stomach, he was not expecting this. He knew about her association with the order and how she was connected to Potter, Black and the others. He started to feel anger and envy, even though it would have been a disaster for his Death Eater status to have an illegitimate child with her.

"What?" Severus stumbled for words, "You don't look like you're very far along with the pregnancy. Is Potter the father? Black? Lupin? Or someone else from the Order?"

"The father of my child is none of your business. Besides, I'm not sure. What's the baby to you anyway?"

She then proceeded to put all of her clothes back on. There was nothing he could do to stop her from leaving, so he did nothing. He was sick of forcing her to do things against her will.

"Goodbye, Sev. I'll always remember you as a childhood friend, not a monster. What you've become is just a result of the world we live in, just like I am."

Lily then left before he could say goodbye. She would never believe him if he told her that he loved her. Severus never did see her again. It was that moment that made him want to go back in time, becoming a Death Eater was a wrong choice and he couldn't get out of it.

* * *

_July 1991_

_It was over the next couple of days that the Dursleys went absolutely mad. After Harry had received the first letter (he tried to respond but couldn't), several more had appeared the next day to take its place. And so forth. Harry was torn between feeling bemused by the stupid behaviour of the Dursleys and upset that they were destroying his letters. _

_A couple of days later an explosion of letters out of the mail box had lead Uncle Vernon to take them on a random holiday to 'a hut on the rocks' in the hope that the letters would stop._

* * *

It was 11:58 on the little digital alarm clock on the little stand beside Dudley's feet, just two more minutes until it was the 31 July and it would be his eleventh birthday. It wasn't how Harry wanted to spend his birthday, in this awfully dusty and decrepit place they were only staying in out of Uncle Vernon's paranoia over the letters, but it wasn't as if he had ever had what he wanted for his birthday.

'_BANG! CRACK! BOOM!'_

The weather outside was atrocious. The thunder and lightning were so loud that he was surprised the Dursleys were still asleep. It was almost like gunfire. The rain was just as bad; everything smelt damp and water dripped into buckets from cracks in the ceiling. All of this wouldn't be as awful, if Harry wasn't certain that he and the Dursleys were going to be stuck here for at least two days until the weather cleared up. Having nothing was a better present than having to spend two days with the Dursleys in this awful place.

The alarm clock made a small buzzing sound. It was his birthday. He rolled over and drew a cake in the dusty floor with his finger. Not as good as the cake he drew on paper last year but it was better than no cake at all.

"Make a wish, Harry!"

He then blew out the candles. Harry's wish was the same one he had every year, for the Dursleys to be nice or to be whisked away from them. Both of which were unlikely to happen.

"BANG!"

It was louder than the thunder outside. To the Dursley's shock, the door fell to the dusty ground. Standing in the doorway was a ginormous man. He was wearing a large moleskin coat and had lots of frizzy hair as well as a beard that was just as long and frizzy. Dudley screamed and ran to his parents. Harry hid under the small rickety table by the door. Uncle Vernon had got out the shot gun, his hands were trembling. Aunt Petunia was latched to his side, her hands gripped tight on her husband's arm.

The ginormous man entered the house and looked straight at Dudley.

"'ello thar' Harry," the man said in a friendly voice, "Pleased ter meet you at last. You're a little bit different than what I'd imagined, especially right in the middle."

"I-I-I'm not Harry…" It was the first time that Harry could remember seeing Dudley look scared.

Harry decided to come out from under the table, "I am."

The huge giant turned towards him. Harry saw the man's eyes widen in surprise.

"Why, indeed yeh are," he smiled gently, "How lovely for yer to have your mother's eyes. Anyway — Harry, a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

The man brought out a brown box to give to Harry. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with "Happy Birthday Harry" written on it in green icing. Harry was overjoyed, the last time he had been given a birthday cake was when his friend Adam's parents had made one for him three years ago. He instantly lost any fear he might have had against this stranger.

"- Who the _hell_ are you?" Vernon interrupted, raising the shot gun higher.

"Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Friends call me Hagrid."

Harry's eyes widened, he wasn't expecting the place to be real.

"How do you know me?" Harry asked, "I mean, how did you know my mother?"

"I taught your mother when she went to Hogwarts. She was such a sweet girl then and she became such a powerful witch. I can't imagine you not wanting to follow in her footsteps. Yeh father was a good man, too."

"A witch? You mean that magic is real and that Hogwarts is too?"

"Didn't yer Aunt 'n' Uncle tell yer nothing? Haven't yer ever done anything unexplainable when yer were scared or afraid? Yer a wizard Harry. Surely they musta known."

Harry blinked with his eyes wide open. He couldn't help but recall the times that the Dursleys told him there was 'no such thing as magic' or seemed not to notice strange things happening around him from when he made an ugly sweater shrink because he didn't want to wear it to the time he ruined Dudley's birthday by making the toy train that Dudley had received from Aunt Marge vanish into thin air.

Aunt Petunia scoffed, "How could we have not known? It was obvious that you would be just as strange and abnormal as she was. She got that letter and went to that school with that horrid boy. She grew up and she had a boy without a father. She got herself blown up and we were landed with you."

There was a stringent bitterness in her voice that Harry had not heard before. She had been holding that resentment for all those years. Her sister was a witch, while she was not.

"You told me my mum died of a drug overdose!" Harry shouted. She had lied to him for all these years and had no remorse for it.

"What?" Hagrid was angry, "Lily Evans was never, ever a drug addict. Lily died protecting her own son. Harry's father was James Potter, a great and noble wizard. This is an outrage! A scandal!"

"- He will not be going to that damn school! I will not sit around and let some crackpot old fool teach him magic tricks," Vernon shouted, his neck and cheeks as red as a beetroot. He was still pointing the old shot gun straight at their visitor.

Hagrid brought out his umbrella and pointed at Vernon, "Never call Albus a 'crackpot old fool' in front of me. Ever."

In the corner, Dudley was busy eating the birthday cake Hagrid made. With a swish of the umbrella in Dudley's direction, a curly pink pig tail grew on his behind. The Dursleys began to screech in horror. Dudley had his hands on the tail, trying to pull it off while Vernon dropped the shot gun to try to yank it off himself. Both of them were screaming and yelling. Aunt Petunia fainted. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the ridiculous of the situation.

Hagrid turned to him and smiled, "Ready to come with me."

Harry looked at the Dursleys. They were too absorbed with Dudley growing a tail to notice Harry being beckoned by Hagrid to leave. He knew that was supposed to feel some sort of grief over leaving them but he didn't. They wouldn't even notice him missing. Harry had no idea what held in store for him when he left with the mysterious large man but he showed more genuine kindness to Harry in less than an hour than the Dursleys had over ten years of his life and to Harry, that made the world of difference. Anything had to be better than the Dursleys and Stonewall High.

* * *

_A/N: I hope this chapter was alright. Reviews, favourites and follows are always welcome._


	3. Sorting and First Potions Lesson

**The Sorting:**

Severus watched as Minerva led the new group of first years towards the Sorting Hat. It was that time of year again but this time would different. It would be the year that Harry Evans, the son of Lily, started at Hogwarts. Severus had been waiting for this moment for so many years. The moment seemed surreal, like he didn't think it would actually happen. However, he acted the usual apathy that he displayed for the sorting ceremony every previous year, such as only clapping for students sorted into Slytherin and taking a mental note of which children were sorted into Gryffindor.

When all the eleven year olds had gathered around, Severus tried to look for the boy. He tried to see if he could spot any boys that looked like they could be a miniature Potter with scruffy hair and a set of glasses but after minutes of looking, he couldn't find one.

It was then that Minerva started to call names, "Abbott, Hannah."

There was silence in the hall, the sorting of the first child was always an excitement.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

It wouldn't be long before she would go on to the 'E' section and call over young Harry. The boy was forced to have his mother's last name as a sign that he was illegitimate. Severus quickly found himself feeling melancholic; looking at the boy would be a reminder that she had a son with his worst enemy. A woman like Lily had the power to change him from being the lonely, self-centred Death Eater that he was. The love of his life was dead and the spawn of Potter would be the only reminder of her existence.

"Evans, Harry."

Severus' heart had skipped a few beats as he watched a pale scrawny boy with sleek, dark hair walk over to the stand and sit on it. The boy's facial expression was a mixture of sheer excitement and shyness. If he really was the son of Potter; he looked absolutely nothing like him. Nothing at all. He didn't take after Lily either.

The whole Great Hall had become silent as the hat was placed on his head. Usually a boy like him would have been laughed at because of his status as the son of a muggle born prostitute and his awkward appearance but he wasn't. Harry Evans had to advantage of being special – being someone famous for something he couldn't even remember. Everybody wanted to know what house would have the pleasure of having 'the boy who lived' as one of their own.

Harry gulped as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. He hoped that he would be placed in the right house.

_'Well, well, well, what do we have here?'_

Harry almost jumped off the stool; he could hear the hat in his mind. It was an uncomfortable experience. He hated anything that could possibly probe through his mind and reveal his secrets. Not that he had any real secrets anyway. Not yet.

_'Plenty of talent, I see and not a bad mind either. I see that you are generally loyal, fair and kind to others, especially to those you love and care about - maybe you would belong in Hufflepuff. You also have a great love of learning, a trait of a true Ravenclaw. You are unafraid to stand up for what is right against neighbourhood bullies. I see courage, oh yes, and a strong need to prove yourself - '_

Harry closed his eyes and began to wish hard, 'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.'

'Not Slytherin, eh? But Slytherin will lead you on the path to greatness, there's no doubt about that. No? Well, if you're sure, then…'

"GRYFFINDOR!"

In the mist of shouting and applause that had erupted from the Gryffindor table, Severus watched in disappointment as the son of Lily walked over to sit at the Gryffindor table.

* * *

**First Potions Lesson:**

Harry found his first couple of days at Hogwarts wonderful. The place was beautiful, spacious and enigmatic. Words could not really describe how happy he was to be there. Harry had taken time to explore the castle and look at the surroundings; he was even tempted to go near the Forbidden Forest just for a look. He was surprised by this newly found adventurous aspect of his personality; it was as if being away from the Dursleys was like being let out of cage. The Sorting Hat obviously had some sense in placing him in Gryffindor, the house of bravery and courage. He seemed to be more impressed by the castle then other students, especially students who were raised with the knowledge that they had magic in them. He guessed that unlike the other students who missed their families, Harry didn't have anywhere he would rather be or anybody to miss.

Finding out he was a wizard was probably the best thing that had ever happened to him. He didn't like to think about where he would currently be if he had no magic. He didn't like to think about the Dursleys either. The people at Hogwarts generally treated him better than his only relatives did. It proved to Harry that blood wasn't necessarily thicker than water, at least in his case.

He did manage to make new friends. He had already made good friends with Ron Weasley, the boy he had met on the Hogwarts Express. The red-haired boy came from a large family of magic folk and had been very kind in helping Harry by explaining many aspects of the magical world. There was also Hermione Granger, a studious girl who had buffy mousy brown hair and abnormally large front teeth. Her parents were dentists and like him, grew up ignorant of the magical world. Harry found her a nice girl, even if she was a bit of a bossy know-it-all.

There were also negative aspects to coming to Hogwarts. One was his unwanted fame, as a shy person, Harry dislike having people talk about him behind his back or trying to get a good look at his scar. There were also the people who made fun of him, at his old school there were also people who teased him but that was for his nerdish ways and odd appearance. The people who teased him at Hogwarts mainly did so because of his birth status. It turns out that being born illegitimate was a particularly negative stigma in the wizarding world. It also didn't help that his mother was 'muggle born'. It was never fair to be teased, but being discriminated against for something he was born and couldn't control seemed more unfair than being labelled a nerd or a weirdo.

Mainly it the Slytherins who held this prejudice against him but at least he wasn't the only person targeted, Hermione and other muggle borns also experienced prejudice against them. He especially didn't like Draco Malfoy. The blond boy seemed to excrete obnoxiousness from every pore of his body by claiming that he was better than everyone else simply because he was deemed 'pureblood'. His drawling voice made him even more unpleasant to listen to.

Harry just stuck around his friends and ignored all negative comments that came his way. When he wasn't reading books or doing homework, he and Ron would be playing chess with each other and versing Ravenclaw students. Although Harry liked being a Gryffindor, he found many of the others in the house rowdy and too outgoing for his liking. Many Ravenclaws were studious, clever and held interesting conversations.

Despite the slight negative aspects of Hogwarts, Harry found himself very much at home.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron frowned as he looked over their timetable, "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. My brothers say he always favours them and always puts down the Gryffindors. Fred and George _hate_ him."

"I hope not," Harry said through bites of pancake, "Hopefully, he's not an overgrown version of a lot of the nasty Slytherins."

Hermione nodded in agreement, "We better get going otherwise we'll be late."

They left the Great Hall after they had finished breakfast and reluctantly made their way to the dungeons.

Severus Snape was busy pedantically preparing the classroom for the new first years' introduction to Potions. Using non-verbal magic, Severus made cauldrons appear on the tables along with the other equipment the students would need. He made sure that the equipment was positioned identically on each desk. He didn't know why he took such care in setting up his classroom; it wasn't as if the snotty nosed brats ever appreciated it.

It wasn't long before the first eleven year olds arrived and took their seats. In the short time before the lesson was expected to begin, Severus took careful note on the new students. Like which ones didn't look like they were very bright. He also took note of the new Gryffindors, a new year of brazen and loathsome fools.

When he was satisfied that enough students were in the room to begin, he only had to wave his hand and the children would become quiet. That was the only thing he genuinely enjoyed about teaching, the authority and power he had over the students through fear. If it wasn't for his bargain with Dumbledore, he would not have ever become a teacher. Nor should he have, Snape was impatient, intolerant and frequently antagonistic towards his students. But if it wasn't for Dumbledore, he also wouldn't have been anything more than his former selfish Death Eater self.

"Welcome to potions. I am Professor Snape. I don't expect all of you to be able to respect the subtle art of potion making but for those of you who display aptitude, it should prove interesting. I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can teach you how to cure boils, brew glory and stopper death…"

He looked around the classroom. Most of the Gryffindor students looked a bit intimidated – they must have heard the rumours about him. Good. He also noticed Harry Evans looking curiously around the room, admiring bottles in the cabinets filled with potions ingredients - obviously not paying attention.

"Harry Evans," He called out and the boy sprung in fright to look at him, "Our new celebrity."

Some of the Slytherin class members began snickering.

"Tell me Mr Evans, where exactly would you find a bezoar?"

He glared into the boy's eyes and penetrated his thoughts, _'I think it's the undigested matter that forms in the stomach of a goat.'_

The buffy haired, bucktoothed girl sitting beside him enthusiastically raised her hand up high and waved, eager to answer for him.

The boy started to shake his head, "I don't know, Professor."

Severus found it interesting that the boy didn't seem to gloat on his newly found fame as his eleven-year-old father would have, but instead acted timidly and seemed a little confused at the treatment.

"Let's try again, what would you use Gillyweed for?"

'I_t can give you temporary gills and webbed digits. Obviously helpful if you wanted to go underwater for various lengths of time.'_

The words that came out of his mouth were completely different, "I don't know, Professor."

For a moment Severus made eye contact with the boy. His heart almost skipped a beat when he saw Lily's bright green eyes glare back at him again. Using deeper Legilimency, he briefly delved into the boy's mind. The boy was deliberately not answering the questions mainly because he had a defiant nature and hated being singled out because of his fame. Severus also sensed a desire to fit in as much with his peers as possible.

"Clearly fame isn't everything, is it Mr Evans?"

More snickering from the other students and it wasn't only Slytherins this time.

Severus went back to teaching the class as per usual and left Harry alone. He found it hard to summon up the same feelings of hatred that he had felt for James Potter. The boy had no Potter in him, physically or in personality. It made him kind of happy to know that there was no progeny of Potter walking on the Earth. Severus also became suspicious, if Lily's son was not Potter's, who was the boy's real father? He sincerely hoped that the boy's father was not a pureblood supremacist Death Eater – it would be extremely traumatically for the boy. Severus had other suspicions….

* * *

_A/N: Reviews, favourites and follows are always appreciated and welcome._


	4. The Truth about Spinner's End

A/N: Thanks for the follows, favourites and reviews. This chapter is mainly a backstory of Severus' past.

* * *

On the afternoon after Harry's first potions lesson Severus took a portkey back to his lowly house at Spinner's End and began to search through his belongings. He was trying to find the photo of his first year cohort at Hogwarts. He was particularly interested to see whether Harry looked more like him or Sirius Black at his age. Not that it proved paternity but it was a start.

With the amount of mess that was spread around his house it would take a while to find anything, even with the assistance of magic. He used a variety of household spells to try and sort out the junk that was lying around. Over the years he had forgotten where his mother had kept her most valuable belongings safe from her husband. While he was growing up, his mother hid things to save them from being broken or hocked by Tobias Snape.

He suddenly became amused by the fact that although he hadn't spent much time in the house since he was sixteen; the house was in a state of utter chaos. In fact, the house had been fallow since he was a teenager.

"I don't know why I still keep this place," Severus muttered with vile bitterness, "It's not like I have any happy childhood memories here. I should have sold it to muggles ages ago."

It was true; Severus completely resented this house more than anything else in his life. It was where his parents constantly fought each other and where he was abused as a child.

His mother had never laid a harsh hand on 'her little man' but Tobias Snape on the other hand was a brute to both of them. Severus would remember when he would come back from work drunk in a foul mood and start yelling at both of them; his violence would then escalate to throwing a young Severus against the dull brick walls of the house or do something equally horrible. He remembered his mother was always there with a healing potion and a warm hug afterwards. Although she was able to cure his wounds, over time he had developed a spidery walk because of the repeated injuries. It was his mother who taught him how to brew potions and magic before starting Hogwarts.

Severus found himself shaking his head. Why did his wonderful, intelligent mother end up marrying a horrible muggle like Tobias Snape? Until he was fifteen this was a great mystery.

He did know that his mother had a life just as difficult as his own. Eileen Prince was born into a pureblood but dysfunctional family and was bullied for most of her time at Hogwarts, mainly by Gryffindor students. Once she had left Hogwarts she found a job in the ministry as an Unspeakable and through this, became involved with a wizard who her pureblood supremacist parents didn't approve of. She couldn't run away with him because he was older and already married with other children of his own. He was also in a position of power and could not afford to have the knowledge of fathering an illegitimate child to a much younger woman going around.

So she married Tobias Snape, the first muggle man she could find and addled with his memory to make him believe that he was the father of her child. Unluckily, he turned out to be a brute. This was all written in a note that his mother had addressed to him before her death but he had known that Tobias Snape was not his real father since he was twelve.

He remembered the night with perfect clarity. It was the school holidays and he had stayed up late revising school work because he couldn't get to sleep with his parents fighting. After the argument had finished, his mother ran into his room sobbing with her face buried in her hands. There was blood seeping slightly from in between her fingers and ran down the back of her palms. She then told him between sobs:

"I'm sorry Sev," She said, "Tobias isn't your real father. I'm sorry that I've lied to you for all these years. I hope you can forgive me."

He said nothing, but let her cry herself to sleep next to him. His twelve year old self knew that he was meant to feel angry at her but he didn't. Instead, he felt relief – he wasn't connected to the man by blood at all. After that Severus started referring to himself as 'the Half-Blood Prince' in an attempt to distance himself from Tobias Snape as much as he could. He had never bothered to change his name or tried to find his biological father because as far as he was concerned, the man was irrelevant to his life. Besides, there would be no way to track the man down – all he really knew was that the man was successful within the ministry and was married with other children. Quite a few wizards would have fit that description during the decade he was born.

If he was Harry's father, he was determined to be a much better man than both his father by nature and his legally-father Tobias Snape.

After all these years, he still had so many unanswered questions for his mother. Why did she stay married to him when he was such a bully? Severus supposed that she didn't believe that a decent man would come along and love her. But why didn't she use spells to modify his behaviour? Also, why did she isolate herself away from the magical community? With the only exception being her adult gobstone club. Who was she so afraid of? She might have been ashamed to have a child with no father but that didn't explain why she didn't even set a foot in Diagon Alley.

As he continued to clean his way through the house, he made his way closer and closer towards his mother's room. He hadn't been in the room since he was fifteen, but knew that there was every possibility that the place was where she would have kept photos. The last time he had been in there was to remove his mother's body.

Severus was finding it harder and harder to breathe. He had a vivid flashback of when he found his mother dead. He can come home for Christmas that year knowing that she had been feeling more miserable than usual and that his stepfather's abuse was becoming more violent since he had been involved with another woman. He opened the bedroom door expecting to find her reading in bed but instead found her pale body lying there silent and still. There was a note next to her bed and empty bottle of poison beside her. He didn't quite remember what happened afterwards but remembered starting to scream and cry wildly. He had completely lost control of his magic and emotions. The next thing he could remember was sitting in a destroyed living room, there was glass and torn wallpaper everywhere. Not to mention smashed furniture.

After that he was an orphan, as Tobias Snape had disappeared afterwards. Shortly after Tobias had come home to find that Severus had discovered her dead, they had gotten into their final fight and this time, Severus used magic. Severus didn't care where the man had gone. He was only glad that he wasn't coming back.

His mother's room was exactly as she had left it after all these years only dustier. Severus didn't need to look very far because his mother had kept a picture of himself as a child on her bedside table. He blew off the dust to get a better look.

"My goodness," Severus muttered in shock, "The boy looks just like me."

It was true. Harry Evans was nearly a twin of himself at around that age, although he didn't have dark eyes or a hooked nose. Harry also looked like he was a lot cleaner as well – mainly because unlike him, Harry was probably taught how to look after himself.

Severus didn't know what to do. Of course, he wanted to be a better father to Harry than what his own father had been but he knew that claiming Harry as his own would be detrimental to his plan with Dumbledore. Besides, he knew how the conversation between them would end even before he had started it:

"He's my son, Albus."

"Severus, you can't just tell the boy. You are supposed to be a spy. If you really loved the boy and his mother you would protect him from a distance. A war is coming; Severus and you know that both Harry and yourself will be at the core of it. We must all do what is right, I'm sorry."

The crafty old man had probably known this all along. He would have, he knew Lily well as she had been a part of the Order since she had left school.

Severus left his house at Spinner's End and went to The Leaky Cauldron to get something to eat. He didn't want to go back to Hogwarts just yet.

However, there was one particular way to definitively prove that Harry was his son, the Demiurge potion. Easy as anything to make, but the problem would be getting some of Harry's hair without anyone noticing.


	5. Flying Lesson

"Well, now I know I was never meant to fly."

"It's only been your first time, Harry. Don't be so hard on yourself. I definitely wasn't good when I first started. I'll even help you practise on the weekend. "

"I don't know Ron, breaking your leg on the first go isn't exactly an incentive to try again."

"Once you get out of the hospital wing you'll be fine, all forgotten. My brothers and I have had plenty of experiences with breaking bones and bruises. It was a good thing that Mum was good with healing spells."

It was only his first broomstick flying lesson and he had already managed to break a limb. A leg to be exact.

It had all started when Neville Longbottom had lost control of his broom and broke his wrist. After Madame Hooch had taken Neville to the hospital wing, Draco Malfoy had threatened to break Neville's remembrall. Draco had dared Harry to fly on his broomstick to catch it. Normally he wouldn't have been spurred by Malfoy's comments but he felt that somebody needed to stand up to Malfoy and to protect Neville from being bullied. It had turned out disastrously; Harry fell off the broom and fractured his leg. Not only that, but Neville's remembrall was smashed.

Good did come out of it though, Draco was suspended for at least three weeks and he also had to buy Neville another remembrall. From what Harry had heard, Malfoy's father was highly unimpressed.

As a result of his martyrdom, Harry had to spend a night under the supervision of Madame Pomfrey. She could heal broken bones in less than a heartbeat but his body had rejected the first healing spell that she had tried. The stay overnight was just to make sure that his body didn't reject the spell. Apparently it was unusual for a wizard's body to reject or be resistant spells, especially healing spells. Madame Pomfrey also believed that his body was probably immune to other spells as well. It was possible to do a full check but he would have to go to Saint Mungo's in order to find out. He didn't have the time to go there. Harry wanted to though and was extremely curious, maybe that was the reason why he survived Voldemort's attack on him as a baby.

"I can't believe that you're only staying overnight and you've already received plenty of get well cards – mostly from people you don't know."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I know. I'll throw away all the stuff from people I've never met. They're only wishing me well because I'm famous. It's ridiculous."

Ron shook his head, "You sure do hate having so much attention."

"It's not like I asked for it."

"That and being overly serious. You could at least keep the sweets they gave you."

Harry looked at Ron curiously. Harry had never imagined being friends with someone like Ron; they were opposites in many ways. He disliked every kind of sport, while Ron was madly into Quidditch. He hated getting a lot of attention while Ron strived to distinguish himself from his older brothers. He was overly studious while Ron had no interest in school work. They were different but that was why they were friends.

"Speaking of visitors- Hermione came to see me earlier and told me that apparently my Dad, James Potter became the Gryffindor seeker in his first year at Hogwarts."

"Wow, that's cool! He'd be one of the youngest seekers ever."

Harry pouted dismally, "It's a shame I didn't inherit the talent. "

"Harry, it was only your first try. It always takes a few tries to figure it out. Oh, that reminds me – Harry could you help me figure out questions?"

"Yes, you don't need to ask."

"What was Binns going on about when he mentioned the 'Basic Laws'?"

"I don't know. Ask me about a subject that actually matters."

Madame Pomfrey came out into the ward to see if Ron was still there, it was obvious that she sensed something. Ron quickly ducked underneath Harry's bed to avoid detection. He was supposed to have left an hour ago. When she had left, Ron came up and picked up a chess set that was on the ground beside him. They had to be very quiet to avoid being caught.

"Do you wanna try and sneak a game?"

"Is that even a question, Ron?"

Ron gave him a light punch to the leg and proceeded to tickle him. Harry tried hard to hold back laughs, leaving him very red faced. This amused Ron, who also had to hold back from laughing himself.

It was good to have friends.

* * *

Severus was reading his latest edition of 'Potion Manufacturing Journal' in his office when Albus burst in uninvited. He continued to read as if undisturbed.

"Severus, you need to explain."

Severus looked up, "Explain what?"

Albus started glaring at him, "Why is Harry Evans your son? He is a splitting image of you and he also has similar resistances to certain spells that he could not have gotten from anyone else."

Severus acted indifferently, "Albus, I had no idea. I thought you would have picked it up before I did. You saw Harry as a baby, did you not?"

"I knew she and James were always just friends. Lily said her child's father was a Death Eater. I saw no reason to upset her by investigating further."

"It could have been worse. It could have been Malfoy or Nott. They were also Lily's clients."

Albus frowned and stroked his beard. It was not turning out to be a good start to the year. Their latest suspicions as to who was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone were still pointing to Quirrell. That was just because he was a new teacher, not because there was any real evidence against him yet. They did not need the newfound knowledge of Harry Evan's real paternity to ruin the plan that Albus had in mind.

"Severus, you do know what this means for our plans. You cannot have a relationship to Harry other than being his teacher."

"Don't give me that look, Albus. I hate to be the one who tells you the dark truth, but I doubt the Dark Lord will truly care. There are many Death Eaters who have fathered children of muggles through unsavoury means, not to mentions those who had affairs with witches of various blood statuses. Tom actually saw it as 'creating more wizards' and 'purifying the blood of wizards'. I found out long ago that he had fathered numerous children this way himself. In his younger years at least."

Albus shook his head, Severus knew it wasn't a fact that he wanted to acknowledge but had to. He himself had taught young witches and wizards who were born out of such unions. It was sad, but the vast majority of them had gone on to become perfectly normal and functional members of magic society. Most were unaware of their fathers.

"But you are the father of Harry Evans, Tom's enemy. You can't expect to get away from it."

Severus breathed sadly, "I know. It is the best reason as to why I should protect him. I want to be a father he can be proud of, even if he will never know it."

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews, favourites and follows. Always appreciated.


	6. The Best Christmas

_October 1976_

When he was sixteen, Severus would regularly hide away behind a tree near the Forbidden Forest instead of going inside the castle. It was here that he would spend many hours studying, reading or just daydreaming. He would do nothing else but watch the autumn leaves fall all around him. It was a lovely place that was isolated from the rest of the world around him. His life had been hell over the last year.

He needed to get away from the world at that point of his life. It wasn't long ago that his mother had died, Lily had ended their friendship and the Marauders had given him the ultimate humiliation.

"I never would have found you here if I hadn't been following you all this time. You are really good at hiding."

Severus quickly jumped and took out his wand. It was James Potter.

"What the fuck do you want?!"

"Nothing. I just want to say something."

Severus could tell that there was definitely something amiss with him. His usual arrogance was absent. There was a strange look in his eye; it looked like a mixture of gentleness and sadness. His gang and admirers were not with him. It was all very suspicious.

"What?!" Severus demanded, "Tell me before I hex you."

"Sniv – Severus, Lily told me that your mother died around last Christmas and that your dad is gone as well."

Severus was saddened but he kept his composure. He had hoped that Lily would have kept this a secret from everyone else but since they were no longer friends he guessed that she didn't have any more loyalty to him.

"Well, I've just found out that my parents are going to die soon," Potter continued, "It's not a surprise at their age but still, I'm quite distraught at the prospect of becoming an orphan. I'm only sixteen and they're my only family. I was thinking that I now have at least someone to relate to."

_'Relate to.'_ These words started ringing in Severus' head. He wasn't even sure whether it was really Potter who had said them.

Severus began to seethe through his teeth. How dare Potter say that he could relate to his problems. Potter had been treated like a prince all his life. He had an easy life full of friends and admirers. He had money and talent that other people recognised. He was an arrogant bully who took delight in tormenting others weaker than him. He had absolutely no idea about his life.

Never the less, Potter continued, "Looking back, I was rather unkind to you over all these years. I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me. I'm sorry."

Potter scratched his head and waited for Severus to respond. For the first time, Potter's hazel eyes met Severus' dark ones and were equal. Severus just glared at him for a moment, unsure how to react. He wanted to put Potter in his place and give back some kind of smart retort but no words would come out of his mouth.

'I'm sorry.' He had said those words as if they had the power to undo five whole years of cruelty and resentment. They didn't. Not at all. There was no forgiveness in Severus' heart for Potter or for anyone else for that matter. His insides felt colder than ice.

Before Potter could even blink he was struck by one of Severus' newly invented curses. It was a knockback jinx combined with a confusion hex. It was simple but effective and Potter would be out cold for hours.

Then he just fled, knowing that he would have to find a new hiding place. Potter may have won the war long ago but Severus still had enough courage to keep at least one dignity:

He was never going to forgive him ever.

* * *

Harry was delighted to know that he could spend Christmas at Hogwarts. He was even more delighted to know that he wouldn't be alone as Ron would be staying too. His parents were going to Romania to visit his older brother Charlie. Hermione however, would be seeing her parents.

Harry woke up on Christmas day not expecting to receive any gifts of any kind. There would be no presents as usual but at least he wouldn't have to eat another one of his aunt's wilted salads, the fowl crackling that she made or listen to Aunt Marge talk about her dogs.

"Harry!" Ron yelled at the top of his lungs, "Wake up! We've got presents!"

"Presents? For me?" Harry said doubtfully, he had never received many good presents in his life.

"Of course there is, it's Christmas! Duh!" Ron rolled his eyes, "These are yours."

Harry turned to see two packages for him and a letter. There was also a large pile of sweets from admirers but he wasn't as interested in them, he would eat them later. He decided to open the letter first. It was from Hagrid wishing him a Merry Christmas. Enclosed was a quarter that he had collected from the Dursleys when he visited them. He gave the coin to Ron, whose father had a fascination with muggle artefacts. He would have to send Hagrid a letter back thanking him for the Christmas wishes and to tell him that making the Dursleys send him something was more effort that what it was worth.

Harry then picked up the first parcel. It was something soft inside, presumably an item of clothes but he was excited to receive something.

"Oh!" Ron said when he was about to open it, "You might not want to open that, it's from Mum. She makes one for each of us every Christmas. She hasn't even met you and already considers you a part of the family."

Harry opened it to find a knitted maroon jumper with a bright yellow letter 'H' in the front. It wasn't his colour, he hated the itchy feel of wool and it was far too big for him. However none of that mattered, his smiled at the sight of it. It had meant something more to Harry than Ron would realise. The woman had taken her time to knit him something out of kindness and because he was Ron's friend, not because he was famous. He didn't hesitate to put it on.

"I'll have to thank your mother for this. It's wonderful. I love it to pieces."

"She'll be pleased to hear that."

His next present was a bit more enigmatic. It was also soft but it looked too big to be an item of clothes. There was also no sender, only a note that said _'You inherited this when a wealthy man died in the hope that he would be forgiven for the mistakes he had made in his life. It is time it was given to you.'_

"What does that mean? Who?"

Harry shook his head, "No clue."

Inside was a silvery, majestic piece of cloth. It felt softer than velvet when he ran his fingers through it. He could see intricate patterns woven through it.

"I know what that is!" Ron exclaimed, "An invisibility cloak - they're really rare. Try it on."

When he wrapped the cloak over his body the rest of him completely disappeared. It was exactly what he wanted his entire life – something that could render him invisible.

"Wow!" was all that Harry could say, he was lost for words. This was already the best Christmas he had ever had.

His mind was quickly beginning to think of plans, particularly plans to try and find out about Nicholas Flamel. There were also the pranks he could play on other students, particularly Draco Malfoy.

They had gone on to eating all the sweets they had been given and joking around.

_Tap, Tap, Tap. Caw. Caw._

They unexpectedly turned around to find a crow sitting at the windowsill. It looked like it was carrying something.

"A crow?" inquired Harry, "I didn't know you could send things by crow."

"Hmm… I haven't heard of anyone being sent anything by crow other than a death notification," said Ron, "People who send presents or general letters by black birds are really quite odd but that's according to Mum."

"We better see what it is and who it is for."

They opened up the window to let the crow in. With unusual strength for a bird its size, it lifted a stack of five books packaged together by string into the room. Ron picked up a piece of parchment placed at the top.

"It's for you Harry."

"For real?"

Ron handed him the card and written in typewriter font was 'To Harry Evans.' That was all, there was no clue as to who the giver was or wishing of Merry Christmas.

"They are quite odd," Ron concluded based on this.

Harry however took one look at the stack of books and gasped with excitement. Somebody had known exactly what books he had wanted, all the latest edition of series he was reading. He had no idea as to who would have known him so well. It was a very thoughtful (though creepily intrusive) gesture.

"They are exactly what I've been saving up my money for when I was with the Dursleys."

"Who do you think would know?"

"I don't know, I've never told anyone. Is it possible to read minds in the wizarding world?"

"I don't know."

_Caw._

They turned to realise that the crow was still there. An owl would have flown away a while ago. It crooked its head at them and looked at them in a pleased way that Harry thought was impossible for birds to mimic. Ron began to shoo it away. It promptly flew out of the window and disappeared into the snowy sky.

* * *

Hogwarts at night was very different to Hogwarts during the day. The usual enigmatic and mystical vibrance that was present during daylight was replaced by something more sinister. It was as if the place was engulfed by dark menacing shadow. Harry felt like the castle had slowly accumulated deep, dark secrets over the centuries.

He now regretted his decision to skip out of bed to try and find information about Nicolas Flamel in the restricted section in the library. So far he had only picked up a book that had started screaming at him as soon as he opened it, which attracted the likes of Argus Filtch. Filtch had the pleasure of patrolling the corridors at night, making sure that there were no students out of bed. Harry had managed to avoid him by slim chance and not to mention invisibility.

As he made his way through the corridors at night, he was struggling not to trip over his invisibility cloak. In his attempt to avoid Filtch, he had become lost. He was now in an odd room that only contained a large mirror. Curiosity drew him further to have a closer look.

It was old and dusty like everything else in the unused classroom. Prompted against the wall, it looked like something that didn't belong there; something that was merely placed here to be put out of the way. Inscribed on the top of the frame was; _'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi'_. It was like another language but of what language he had no idea, maybe it was just gibberish.

What he saw in the mirror was more captivating. Standing beside him was a beautiful young woman with long red hair and green eyes the same as his. Her face lit up when she saw him, as if she couldn't get enough of the sight of him, but she seemed so sad. It was as if life had been hard on her and broken her spirit. His heart raced, he was seeing his mother for the first time - he hadn't even seen pictures of her. She was covered in black from head to toe, dressed sensibly and eccentric. She didn't look like a prostitute at all, just different. His aunt was doubtless lying about her all this time.

On the other side of him was another woman, she seemed to be middle aged or just looked older because she wasn't very beautiful. She was dark haired and had a sullen look on her face. She was also extremely pleased to see him and was crying a little out of happiness. Harry assumed that she was either an aunt or other female relative of his father's side of the family. Perhaps she was his grandmother but had died young.

There were also an older couple who looked like they could have been his muggle grandparents. His grandfather and grandmother were wearing clothes commonplace for the seventies. They were also happy to see him - his grandmother was even nodding her head in approval. They looked like lovely, friendly people. He remembered Aunt Petunia mentioning that her parents died in a car accident. Whether this was true or not was questionable, she did lie about his mother's death.

He spent hours just looking at them, wishing that his dead family would be alive with him on the other side of the mirror and not merely looking in. Never-the-less, he returned back to the Gryffindor common room to sleep when he felt too tired.

The next night Harry decided to take Ron to see the mirror.

"Do you see them? Do you see my family?" Harry said with excitement.

Ron just stood there with his mouth open.

"No, I'm alone. But I'm different - I'm head boy."

"What?"

"I am – I'm wearing the badge like Bill use to and I'm holding both the House Cup and Quidditch Cup too. I'm the Quidditch captain! Harry, do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? My family is dead."

The night after that Harry went to the mirror again, though alone. He couldn't get enough of seeing his family. His mother was pleased to see him back and the sullen woman brightened up merely at the sight of him. There was nothing to stop him spending the entire night here. Nothing at all.

"So – back again Harry?

Harry jolted and turned to find Albus Dumbledore standing behind him. He had never quite seen the headmaster in his entire entirety. His long robes and long silvery beard reminded Harry of the typical wizards of fairytales, fantasy novels and cartoons.

"How did you come here? I didn't see you come in." Harry inquired.

"Strange how near-sighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore stated ambiguously, "There are other ways of becoming invisible."

"Professor Dumbledore, what does this mirror do?"

"I'll give you a clue - the happiest man in the world would look into the mirror and see nothing but his own reflection."

"So it shows us our desires?"

Dumbledore nodded, "It shows nothing more and nothing less than the deepest desires of our hearts. This mirror show neither truth nor fact. Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible. Many have gone mad.

"That is why the Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

Harry thought about this, it seemed profound. It was a while before Harry spoke again.

"Sir, I don't see any father or grandfather in this picture. Was James Potter really my father?"

"No," Dumbledore said gently, "He is not your father but don't worry about that. It is the heart that what makes real family, not nature. Your living family have not made much contribution to your life - so far."

Harry instantly understood what he meant, "Sir, I'm really sorry to have to ask you this, but was my mother really a whore?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "Your mother was one of the bravest women I've ever had the privilege of knowing. She was wonderful, pure and took excellent care of the people she loved."

To an eleven year old Harry, this meant that his mother was not what he feared. There was a small silence, a good and comforting silence. He was pleased to know that Dumbledore was not angry with him.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

Dumbledore looked at him and smiled, "I see myself holding a new pair of socks. I never get any new socks, people always insist on giving my books. Now I think it is time for you to go to back."

* * *

_A/N: I know you all might be irritated with me for not revealing to Harry that Snape is his father. I've decided to leave that for later. Please be patience. I don't want to reveal it so early. So far, all Harry really knows is that Potter is not his actual father. The reason why Snape is not seen is because Harry wants to see his dead relatives rather than his living ones (aka The Dursleys). It goes back to his childhood wish of wanting an unknown relative to whisk him away from the Dursleys. (That's just what I've made up to explain myself.) You all can probably figure out who the sullen looking lady is. There aren't too many other relatives, especially on Severus' side of the family. Severus' mother was estranged from her pureblood fanatic relatives and his father had nothing to do with his life and therefore nothing to do with Harry's._

_I tried to make this chapter as close to the novels as possible. Thank you for reading - reviews, follows and favourites are always welcome._


	7. Detention with Snape

Harry had quickly finished all the books that had been given to him by a stranger over Christmas as well as used his new invisibility cloak to sneak around. Harry had a burning desire to discover the identity of his mysterious present giver, though only slightly more that the whole Philosopher's Stone theory.

Potions class began as per usual, with most of the non-Slytherin students dragging themselves inside for another unwanted encounter with Professor Snape. Neville Longbottom made an effort to sit around him, Hermione and Ron as a safety precaution. The Gryffindor students attempting to

"Harry, do you think a fan would have sent you those books?" Hermione whispered, still trying to gather ideas as to who his secret gift giver was.

"Jeez, I hope not! It would be nice and stuff, but overly creepy. I might have ended Voldemort's reign but I was only a baby for goodness sakes - it's not something I set out to do. Also, the person who sent me these must have known that I didn't really have a family. They must have known me well."

She thought about this, "Do you think it might have been Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore would never have a crow," Ron said, very unchanged in his position about this, "That would be just weird. Whoever this is both a weird person and knows Harry really well. Maybe they can read minds."

"Anyway," Harry was hoping to continue this subject at another time without so many ears around them, "Do you think we should help Hagrid in regards to his current problem?"

To the trio's horror, Hagrid had hatched a dragon's egg. It was a Norwegian Ridgeback he christened Norbert. Now the young hatchling was growing too big and he had to get rid of it.

"Well, we kinda have to? Don't we?" Ron whispered with a worried look, "I mean; my brother really is the only person who can help him."

"I really hope he doesn't set my robe on fire." Harry said with a frown; they knew he wasn't talking about just any 'robe.' They had to sneak out under the invisibility cloak at night to sort this out – something that would get them into a lot of trouble if caught.

The door to Snape's office burst open and out stepped Snape, obviously in a fouler mood than usual. His black eyes were more piercing. His black hair was greasier than usual and there was the smell of overcooked potion on him.

The entire class fell silent. They all feared what Snape was going to do and say to them. For whatever reason, he was unhappy and was going to take his anger out on them. Harry had the suspicion that one of his potions went terribly wrong.

"Class," his voice was snide but not loud, "Time to take out homework."

Harry, Ron and Hermione had completed theirs but Harry quickly noticed that Neville's was only partially completed. He probably had trouble understanding it.

He turned around the class starting with Lavender Brown.

"Why is your homework not completed?"

Lavender was slow to answer; she just looked up at him shyly with her cheeks turned pink.

"…B-b-b-because I just lost it…"

"Well, you should have placed it in a better place. I will not take that as an excuse – 10 points from Gryffindor."

Lavender started crying. Snape paid no attention to this and merely continued checking the class, some of which had previously learnt the hard way about not doing potions homework. Snape stalked though the classroom like a rabid wolf ready to snap. He passed students quickly skimming though their work. He passed some without a word and others he merely shook his head. He nodded at Draco Malfoy's and another Slytherin boy. Harry was pleased when Crabbe and Goyle received detention. When he passed Harry and Hermione he muttered something on the lines of 'Good work.'

He stopped at Neville, who was hunched over his paper like a turtle hiding in its shell.

"Neville Longbottom, let me see your work."

Neville reluctantly pulled out the paper for Snape to see.

Snape frowned and muttered, "Tutt, Tutt, Tutt. I gave all of you an extra week to complete your assignment and you present this. You failed, but of course, that can be expected from you."

This made Harry upset, "Well he did complete some of it. He just had trouble understanding it, that's no reason to be so mean to him."

The whole class gasped, believing that Harry was done for. Snape's pale face turned bright red.

"Well, Mr Evans you have earned yourself a week of detentions - starting here tomorrow afternoon."

There was another gasp from the class. Snape had never given anyone (not in first year) a week's worth of detentions before. The idea of one detention from him was traumatic enough; he didn't even give Neville detentions. Harry realised that he would have to stop standing up for Neville if he didn't want more trouble than he already had. He couldn't help it though.

After that, Snape continued the lesson as if nothing ever happened. Leaving Harry thinking there was much more to Snape than what reached the eye. There was something about him that had an effect on the sarcastic, moody professor.

* * *

It was late afternoon and Severus remembered that he had to reorganise the room for detention. He would have much preferred to keep on working on his new experimental alternative Wolfsbane potion but students had to be punished. He didn't take cheek from any of them.

With a no more than a swish of his hand, the smoke that had seeped out of his cauldron and into the classroom instantly dissipated. A second wave of his wand made the classroom more organised and got rid of any bits of rubbish or vandalism on desks. Pieces of used Waddley's Wibblegum stuck under desks were removed. Severus believed that students grew more and more disgusting as time went by.

Pieces of parchment also materialised on the desks with quills and ink beside them. He made sure that there were exactly three pieces of paper for each of the seven students that had detention. They would have to write lines of course, usually related to what rule they had broken.

He would be glad once this detention was over; he wanted to go back to what he was doing…. But there was more to it. He didn't want to deal with Harry in detention.

The boy was turning out to be a rebel. His protection of Neville Longbottom took Severus completely by surprise. His mother would have done something similar. It was in her nature to look after people.

It was four thirty - time for detention but he expected most of them to be late. Typical.

Eloise Midgen was the first to arrive, eager to get her detention over and done with. She was obviously afraid of him – she rarely looked at his face, hardly if ever spoke in class and stirred her small pewter cauldron warily. She was here because the essay she was supposed to have written about healing potions was very unsatisfactory. A typical detention for a Hufflepuff.

Harry came in without a word. He was wide-eyed; he obviously hadn't been in this much trouble with a teacher before. He looked unsure of what to do. His bright eyes met Severus' for a moment and in a glimpse he could see that the detention was unfair. It was unlikely that Severus would be his favourite teacher. He looked at the papers in front of him and frowned.

"Sir, do I have to fill out all the four pages of lines?"

"Yes, Evans. You and Midgen can start now. Midgen, I want you to write on this piece of paper all you actually know on healing potions. Evans, you have to complete your homework here."

Eloise frowned in distain. Harry shrugged; it's what he would have done with his afternoon anyway.

Shortly after came Chrysanthemum Selwyn. He could hear her coming down the stairwell to the Dungeons as she had a habit of talking to people as she walked by. Severus had given her a week's detention for being her usual rowdy and loud self. She was always experimenting with fashion. Today she had blaring magenta hair and sky blue eye shadow. Just looking at her gave him a headache.

Severus gave her instructions to do four pages of 'I must not scream and yell in class like a Cornish pixie being strangled.' He stormed over to his desk and sat down. He was determined to ignore her and her loud, boisterous ways.

Chrysanthemum sat in the desk besides Harry. She instantly turned to Harry, "Hi Harry, I'm Chrystie Selwyn – fifth year. Pleased to meet you. I see you sitting in the common room reading or with your friends from time to time. Snape rarely gives firsties detention – not for a week anyway. You must have pissed him off something shocking. How'd ya get here?"

"Oh, I just stood up for my friend. He didn't like that.

He watched the girl smile. The Gryffindor house supported this kind of behaviour of each other. It really was appalling. He didn't want Harry in their house.

"Well I never. Good on you. Snape's an old …"

"Silence Chrysanthemum! Harry – get back to work."

He could see Chrysanthemum shake her head and place her head down. Harry did the same.

It was a couple of minutes before the late arrivals came. Willow Whatley waltzed in unaware that she was late. Severus was convinced that her body clock was set half an hour late. Long ago back when she was a first year he had decided that Willow was a strange girl, even for a Ravenclaw. She was a silent, absorbed girl whose mind was always buzzing with ideas and stories. Her only saving grace was that she had just enough intelligence to pass her exams. She sat down behind Chrysanthemum and started to do her usual lines, this time it was because she failed to hand in a few essays. It wasn't long before Willow started humming to herself. It was a queer, aimless tune that one would have expected from a small child.

Then came the deliberately lates. The Weasley twins came in followed by a hopeless Hufflepuff misfit that was such a wallflower that Severus did not even bother trying to remember his name. There was the spirit of usual apathy and detestation about them that they reserved for his detentions.

"Hey, What's Harry doing here?" Asked one of the red haired boys.

"He's only a boy, goodness gracious professor." Said the other.

"Silence, both of you. Now get to your lines."

The boys did as he said. Within a couple of minutes of watching the children, his mind wandered elsewhere. His thought returned to Quirrell, he had been paranoid about the man all day. The man was a pathetic wimp. He was supposed to have been an excellent student in the Defense Against the Dark Arts but apparently theory did not translate to practical experience. Yet, Severus felt that there was something sinister about the man. It was only once he took up the post that there had been threats towards the stone's placement in the third corridor. Dumbledore had been right to take the stone out of Gringott's. Knowing Voldemort's pathological fear of death, Severus knew that the Dark Lord would pursue any method possible of achieving everlasting immortality.

It wasn't long before Eloise Midgen came up to him with her paper. He skim read it with the usual apathy that he reserved for reading student's work. It was of acceptable standard. He looked up at the awkward pimply-faced teenage girl with a shrug.

"This is acceptable. I will only accept this kind of work in the future."

Eloise simpered and went back to her desk to collect her things. She was smarted than she thought she was. She didn't hesitate to leave.

One of the Weasley twins looked up.

"Sir," He said confused, "But why is Harry here? He didn't do anything wrong."

Severus replied in his usual snide way, "That is not really of any of your concern, is it?"

Chrysanthemum joined in, "Yeah, it's not fair that he gets detention. He's only 11."

He turned to see Harry looking up to him. He looked like he was proud to have the older students stand up for him as he did for Neville.

"In case you haven't noticed, life isn't fair. Now get back to your work."

"But it can be," said the Hufflepuff boy.

"Besides, we've already finished," Said Chrysanthemum, and she brought out her parchment. Surely enough, there were the lines 'I must not be unspeakably rude in class and must listen to my professor' written on the pages. She couldn't have completed it all during the time she was here.

He looked straight into her eyes and saw that she and the others in his detention had come up with a plan. They would right lines before the detention, hide it in their sleeves, replace it with the blank bits of parchment and give it to him. He had a feeling Harry's new found friend Ronald Weasley, had told his brothers about the detention.

Usually he would have made up a spiteful threat, but he didn't. Not because he was ashamed to be beaten by them, he didn't really care about that, but because he didn't want Harry to see him as a brute or an enemy. He would not win the battle this time.

"If you have finished your paper you can leave. Harry has to stay behind."

To his surprise all of the older students got up and left. Even Willow.

"I hope he doesn't hurt Harry," Chrysanthemum muttered to the twins.

One of the twins shook his head, "I don't think he will, Dumbledore would hex him."

They all left to leave Harry alone with him. Severus didn't know what to say to him or really what to do. Harry just sat there looking back at him with a mixture of fear and confusion as to what he would do next. He put a hand to the side of his face to look at him in a pensive way, he expected his professor to do something.

He used small opportunities to find more about the boy with Legimency. He was a bright boy with a powerful sense of morality and justice. He was as good natured as his mother had been. It was her blessing of love that had protected him mentally against the neglect of the Dursleys' as well as shielded him physically away from the Dark Lord. Severus hated Lily's muggle sister Petunia from the moment he set eyes on her when they were children, but he did not imagine that she would neglect her sister's only child. He shouldn't have been surprised; Petunia had left her sister to become a prostitute after their parents had died for no reason other than her own spiteful jealously. He had to think of something, some way to convince Albus to place him in another home. Surely there were better ways to keep him safe than through transferring a spell to his closest blood relative.

These days the boy was contriving with his friends. Severus used the boys mind as a gateway to knowing what he was up to. He and his friends had already found out who Nicholas Flamel was and about the Philosopher's stone. He understood that the children were only concerned with what was going on but it was wrong for them to be involved in adult affairs, especially with things that could put their lives in danger. The old saying was true, curiosity could kill a cat.

But there was no way that Severus could curb this behaviour with chastising. He would just have to protect Harry from a distance. He really hoped that his son would change his mind about helping Hagrid give his new baby Norwegian Ridgeback dragon to Ron's Dragonologist brother Charlie. He didn't want the boy walking around the castle at night. Especially with Dark Lord somehow lurking around the grounds.

He decided to walk over to him and check his work, "Evans, show me your work."

Harry gave him his papers. He took a good look at them. They were good, considering his age. He was glad that the boy had inherited the abilities of his parents.

"These are very good, Harry. You know that."

"Yes sir." Normally he would have been too humble admit such a thing but at the present moment, determined to stand up again to his professor.

"Fine. You can go now." Severus dismissed him with a flick of his hand, "You'll be doing some more work tomorrow. I'll easily think of something."

The boy turned to go. It looked like he wanted to say something but he was conflicted as to whether he actually should.

"Hey Professor," Harry turned to him before exiting the potion's classroom, "I've asked a few people this but they have all said 'no'. Have you known anyone who has a crow or even a raven instead of an owl?"

"Well, Harry. Socially, it's not considered normal to keep a crow. They are associated with death and misfortune."

"Well, that's pretty much what everyone says. But do you know anyone?"

Severus knew what Harry was talking about. He was eager to know who sent him the presents for Christmas. He had once met a dark witch in Germany who had a raven as a messenger but she was of no concern to Harry. He honestly didn't know anyone who kept a crow for a

He replied, "No, Harry. I don't know anyone."

Harry shrugged disappointedly and left carrying his bag filled with books. All alone, Severus smiled. He couldn't quite remember the last time that he had smiled.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading reviews, favourites and follows are always appreciated and welcome.


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